


12:51

by softnebula (orphan_account)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 10:05:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6075183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/softnebula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which they go on a nightly excursion that involves too-sweet drinks and crappy B movies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	12:51

**Author's Note:**

> this has like no plot but it’s cutesy and platonic-ish and that is the shit i do like
> 
> [tumblr](http://j-iminpark.tumblr.com/) // [writing tumblr](http://softnebula.tumblr.com/) // [twitter](http://twitter.com/xtrememilkhotel/)

“Dan?”

“Yeah?”

Phil walks over to where Dan is reclined on his bed and sits by his knee. “Are you busy?”

“Um.” Dan continues scrolling on his laptop, never tearing his eyes off the screen. “Define 'busy'.”

“Are you preoccupied with important tasks?”

“Define 'important'.”

Phil gives him a look.

Dan looks up, shutting his laptop screen closed halfway. “What?”

“I’m bored,” Phil states.

“Go masturbate or something.” 

Phil punches Dan in the shin, inciting a cry of pain. “You can’t just _say_ that.”

Dan laughs rapturously. “Are you blushing?” 

“I’m not.” 

“You’re blushing. You’re a flower.”

“Shut up. Listen. Seriously. I want to go on a stroll.”

Dan makes a face. “A stroll.”

“Yeah,” Phil says like it’s obvious, duh, a stroll, what else?

“Are you serious?” Dan gives a short laugh, still not quite believing him. 

“Yeah.”

Dan blinks. “You have a laptop, Phil.” 

“I do,” Phil shrugs, “but I’m not in the mood. You know when you’re still completely bored even while you’re browsing like ten different websites?” 

As an aficionado of the web, Dan knows the feeling all too well, but because suppression is his strength, he usually just continues to mindlessly click and scroll when it arises. That, and he can’t be assed to act on it.

“I mean… I guess?” he assents.

“There you go.” Phil smiles like he just won something. “And yes,” he goes on, “I expect you to come with me.”

Dan stares at him. “No.”

“Oh, come on,” Phil urges, nudging his knee. “It’ll be nice.”

“Okay, even if I did agree, it’s–” Dan pauses briefly to check the time on the laptop. “–Almost eleven. We’re not going out this late.” 

“That’s perfect,” Phil says. “We can catch a late-night flick at that vintage-looking theatre we saw yesterday.”

“Um… right.” The idea of watching an obscure B movie late at night in an empty theatre seems quite intriguing and momentarily piques Dan’s interest, but no sooner did he think that his brain conjured up horrifying scenarios involving knife-wielding murderers and screams that never reach the outside. “We’d probably get violently murdered in there,” he says.

“No, we won’t.” Phil firmly slaps Dan’s kneecap. “Come on. We’ll be back before midnight.”

“No.”

“Please?”

Dan opens his laptop screen and resumes browsing. “ _No._ ”

Phil thinks quickly. “I’ll treat you to snacks or drinks or something?”

Dan sniggers. “That bored, are you?”

“Why, yes, thank you for catching up,” Phil says. “Come onnnn.”

Dan lets out a surprised cry as Phil has grabbed his feet and clamped them down. “Get off of me.” He laughs, kicking at Phil’s hand in a vain attempt to escape his grip. “Stop that – God, you’re hopeless. Fine, okay, I’ll go on a bloody stroll with you. Get _off._ ”

Phil chuckles victoriously, the manipulative shit, letting go of Dan’s feet and standing up. “Let’s-a go!”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Dan raises his hand. “Not so fast.” 

Phil raises an eyebrow at him.

“I’ll go,” Dan says, “but if – and only if – you pay all the expenses for food, beverages, and entertainment.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest decisively.

There. How’s _that_ for manipulation.

The look on Phil’s face is one of betrayal and hurt. “Are you serious?”

“Incredibly,” Dan says. “Look, you were the one who opened the door,” he points out. “I just walked through like any sensible human being would.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“I’m not going without an incentive.” 

“Wh –” Phil’s voice takes on an incredulous tone. “That’s not fair.”

“ _Life's_ not fair, Phil.”

Phil appears as though he’s about to argue some more, but ultimately the horrifying thought of being bored until he falls asleep keeps him silent, and he reluctantly sighs out an agreement. “I hate you.” 

Dan tut-tuts. “Rude.”

“This is blackmail,” Phil protests, walking towards the door.

“That’s a strong word.”

“You’re buying everything I want for the rest of the month,” he says.

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m going to buy so many things online and you’re going to pay for all of them.”

“Oh, will I?” Dan sings.

“Yes.” Phil leans against the doorframe, glaring. “Better get your piggy bank ready.”

Dan flashes him an angelic smile. “You’re the reason why the earth spins, Phil.”

 

–

 

“Did you like the movie?”

It’s nearly midnight when they exit the theatre. The streets are scattered with the occasional lone souls, tipsy and sober alike, and a cool night breeze has started to pick up.

“Did I like it?” Dan echoes. “I mean, it’s hard to judge when I don’t remember anything much.”

Phil laughs softly, recalling random flashes of guns, busty ladies, and explosions. “True.” His hands are stuffed in the pockets of his metallic silver coat.

Dan glances his way. “Is that the coat we bought at Topman last year?”

“Hm? Oh. Yeah. I thought I’d wear it for once. I quite like it, actually.”

“You look good in it,” Dan says. The tips of ears are tinged with pink.

Phil beams. “Thanks.”

 

–

 

They’re sat together on a bench with drinks in their hands. Conversation has come to a comfortable lull; it’s well past midnight when Dan checks his phone.

“Before midnight?” he says, quoting Phil.

“What?”

He shows Phil his phone screen.

“Oh. Oops.” Phil shrugs. “You want to head home?”

Dan pockets his phone. “Not really. You?”

“Not yet.” Phil brings his drink to his mouth. “God, this drink is sweet.”

“Let me try?”

Phil offers the can to Dan, who takes a sip. “Jesus, that is intense sugar.” He makes a face and smacks his lips a couple of times.

“Right?”

“ _Melon Explosion,_ ” Dan reads the bright pink blocky letters on the equally bright yellow background. “Lies. There was literally zero percent melon in this thing.” He hands the drink back.

“And now it’s in my body,” Phil muses.

Dan grimaces at his own flamboyantly-coloured can. “I don’t think I can finish mine now, honestly.”

“Don’t throw it away,” Phil warns. “That’s my money.”

Dan splutters. “Wasn’t planning to.” 

Phil raises his eyebrows.

“I wasn’t,” he protests. 

“Well, thank you,” Phil says.

Dan rolls his eyes.

“You know,” he goes on, “my mum used to say that night wind is bad for your skin.”

Dan snorts. “Really.”

“Yeah, it makes your skin all dry and crackly.”

“Are you trying to say I have bad skin?”

“No,” Phil says. His eyes begin to flick around Dan’s face. “You’ve actually got nice skin.”

“Do I?” Dan brings his hand up to feel around his face. It’s kind of bumpy.

“Do you moisturise?” Phil asks.

“No. Do you?”

“I do,” Phil says proudly. “Feel my skin.”

“Um. Okay.” Dan reaches up, fingers coming into contact with Phil’s left cheek. It’s warm and unexpectedly satiny. “Huh,” he says, genuinely impressed. “Wow. That _is_ smooth.”

“I should harvest these,” Phil says, clearly chuffed. “Everyone should moisturise. Forget about manliness. What is that, anyway?”

“One of society’s constricting doctrines,” Dan offers, nodding. Underneath the streetlight, Phil’s eyes are bright blue and wet, like watercolour with a little too much water, carefully watching him.

“It works,” Dan attests, retracting his hand and placing it on his lap. “What brand do you use? Just out of sheer curiosity.”

“I forget what it’s called.” Phil frowns in thought. “Some weird French-sounding name. Starts with an L. Or an O. I can’t remember. I’m usually good with names, too.”

Dan hums. “Do you think I should invest in some moisturiser?”

“Definitely,” Phil says. “It’s worth it.”

“If you say so.”

A silence falls between the two as they recollect themselves and attempt to finish their drinks. Faint yells and laughter intermingle with the occasional distant sounds of transport rumbling down the road. In front of them, a motorcycle whizzes past, leaving a trail of newspapers and empty plastic bags fluttering behind its wake.

“You falling asleep?” Dan asks into the quiet.

“No.” Right on cue, a yawn escapes Phil’s throat. “Not really.”

Dan cocks an eyebrow.

“I’m awake,” Phil insists. “What, are you tired?”

Dan gives a dismissive hand wave. “Nah.” He leans back, tilting his head to look up at the sky. He hadn’t noticed before, but there is almost no light save for the moon, lucent in the dark backdrop. “This is nice,” he says.

Phil mimics him. “The sky? Ow, my neck.”

Dan breathes out a small laugh. “No. That’s nice, too, but. No, I meant this random nightly promenade of yours. It’s nice. I’m enjoying myself.”

“Oh.” Phil rubs his neck and looks his way. “Really?”

Dan straightens up. “Yeah.”

“That’s a relief,” Phil says. “I’m sorry. I feel bad for dragging you out here.”

“Never,” Dan says, smiling.

Phil returns it, but backs out when he realises something. “Actually,” he says, poking Dan in the chest, “you should be the one apologising for harassing me into paying for all your crap.”

“It was a _bargain,_ ” Dan interjects.

“Apologise.”

“You are the pettiest person in the – God. Okay. I’m sorry.”

Phil motions with his hand, prompting Dan to say more.

Dan rolls his eyes. “I’m sorry for pressuring you into doing something you didn’t want to do.”

“Thank you,” Phil says. “Wasn’t that hard, was it?”

“Do you forgive me?”

“Kind of.”

“You must be very pleased with yourself,” Dan says. Phil wiggles his eyebrows. 

“We should do this more often,” he says. His hair is slightly tousled by the wind, and his cheeks are flushed. His watercolour eyes are alive and smiling. He looks like home.

Dan feels a rush of warmth pulse through his chest. “Yeah,” he agrees. “We should.”


End file.
